The One That Got Away
by DreamingDaxern
Summary: Original story and characters, so it's experimental and might not stay up forever. He never knew how much it would hurt without him until the day came back to haunt him. Little does he know how much could change for better or for worse in that one day.


I huffed and tossed the bag of groceries down on the floor next to the islands and stared out of the window lazily. It wasn't really my day today, but the world seemed to be bent on making it the single worst existence possible, and it was only ten in the morning. Waking up to remember a date and knowing what it once meant to you was something I faced every year and hated deeply. When I saw hate, I mean so much pent up frustration and anger has been pent up that whenever I purchased a new calendar, I ripped out the month of August without a second thought. Screw any appointments or parties or plans for that time, because it was truly the time of year I hated and dreaded the most in life. And it just so happened that today was August 26th, the day it all started to lead me through a world of darkness and light before leaving me in a gray area.

My reserve was broken as I slumped down on the sofa and turned on the television, hoping to not see a single thing about _him_. The news was more than likely going to cover some outrageous story about him, or even me possibly, but I still prayed. Prayers to the Almighty above never seemed to work for me, and though I should've known better, I still made my silent plea as I flipped through channels. It was as if all my complaining and self-loathing had finally been enough for him and he cut off my supplies of miracles for the rest of my life. By the way I was living, I was pushing for about another sixty to seventy years, so I was essentially screwed over. When my TV screen showed the person who I had been trying to avoid, I looked at my blanched ceiling and flipped it off with both hands.

He hadn't changed much since I had met him that summer on the beach, right before high school started, which apparently meant we'd be seeing more of each other. Nerdy emo kid who was top of his clash falling with the star jock of the football team; the story was so very cliché and unstable, but it happened nonetheless. Secret dates after his games, or little outings after my club meetings after school led to our eventual downfall. We became a crutch for each other, so we were in sync and almost never seen apart from each other during our senior year. The school paparazzi had become very evident during our last year, and they were dying to catch the latest scoop on our love story, though we never confessed to it. In all honesty, he made high school so much more bearable, as well as living through the noise I detested so much at my house.

But the day he received a letter from Louisiana State University commending his football prowess, everything seemed to fall apart pretty fast. It was March when he got the letter, around the time I got my letter of acceptance for Harvard, and nearing the end of us. We spent most of that time moping about being away and fighting very often about what would happen. He was strongly against the idea of me giving up the chance to go to my dream school to go live with him in Louisiana so that he could attend college. So for the last portion of our senior year, we were constantly butting heads and separating slowly but surely until it just stopped. He was no longer there to see me at my locker, or to pick me up after school from my clubs, and he completely ignored me in class. It was as if I had become invisible as was watching as life carried on without me.

We never did officially break up, but the silence was sufficient enough to tell me that things between us were done and over with. I was full of hatred for him for months, years even, until I realized that it was bound to happen because it was never meant to be. When did those relationships ever really last, the ones between a gorgeous jock and a kid who was seriously underweight? The idea was so laughable that I went through college with a stoic face and cold heart, not allowing a single person to get closer to me. But I had met a few people who were amazing and showed me that I didn't need a _boyfriend_ to make me feel happy or special. These were the people I had become acquainted with for the next for years and still remained strong to the present.

After college, the three of us, Leon Cross, Dan Jenski and myself, formed a band and started doing small shows around New York. Someone signed us when I was only 24, and we started a tour around the country, which had just finished up a week ago. We were back in New York now, and on a little relaxing break before our manager called again to rope us back in for practice. I was glad I had a majority of August occupied by my music and little crowd of fans, but now that I was back and alone, I felt sick. No matter how hard I tried to eradicate the constant thoughts of the football player. Now that I saw his wide, toothy grin on TV, the flawless, tan skin stretching to accommodate his smile, I couldn't help but feel it again. I wanted him back no matter how much he hurt me with that joke of a break up six years ago.

I curled up against an arm of my sofa and pulled on my hoodie's drawstrings while I watched the television with mild interest. The host went on and on for ten minutes about his amazing football career, so much so that I was ready to hurl from the clear signs of kissing ass.

But then something interesting happened after a commercial break.

"So, we're back with Jared Typhin, new tight end for the Green Bay Packers! Now, my producer pulled up something pretty amazing about you if you ask me. At first, I told him 'Ted, there's no way,' but sure enough, I was proven wrong."

The brunet grinned. "There are lots of truths and rumors about me. You're going to have to a little more specific, Gary."

He pulled out a magazine that looked pretty old from behind his clipboard before showing it to the brunet, who looked completely stunned. After that, they showed a zoom in of the magazine cover, and I nearly gagged on my spit when I saw a picture of us two holding hands and smiling at the beach.

"This is from your high school, isn't it?"

"Yeah… Pretty crazy crowd, I'll give you that."

"Crazy indeed. It seems that you were dating a _guy_ back then. Any insiders into that?"

He sighed. "What can I say? I'm not really gender specific. I fall in love with whoever can be that person that'll be there no matter what. They'll stand up for me and if they fall, they won't ask for help, but secretly want it. Hell, I also love to argue with them because I feel like you reveal the innermost thoughts in a mental battle. So yeah, I dated him for nearly four years."

"The last issue of this about you two said you broke up, but there was no clear reason? What ended such a beautiful romance?" The host asked with faux interest.

"What ended it? I was a giant dick to him, that's what happened. I was the opposite of the very person I wanted and when he said he'd give up going to his _dream_ school to come live with me, I was pretty heated. I just didn't want him to throw it all away from me…"

"What was the break up like? Was it a blood bath or a leaky faucet?"

"None," he nearly barked with a deeper tone, "he wasn't a girl and he was definitely not psychotic. No, it wasn't either. I never really broke up with him, but I guess he just knew that I didn't want it anymore, for stupid selfish reasons."

"His loss though, right? Look at you now," he said before the crowd cheered.

"I wish I could turn it back though," the man admitted, eliciting an 'aww' from the crowd.

"On the topic of your mystery man, Mr. Ryder, we tracked him down and learned some amazing things from him as well. Did you know he's leader singer of an up and coming band called Valkeer?"

He blinked. "No, I didn't know that…"  
"Well, let's see if you know this song."

I paled. "Shit, please don't be _that _song."

_You meant the world to me, but you broke it in half._

_My perception hazy, I walk these fields alone._

_Don't want to see that face, I'll punch it right in._

_I hope you like tears 'cause that's all you'll see._

_And I wanted you to be was the one that made it all_

_ The one who'd be there to break my fall._

_ Even if it meant the yelling and kicking_

_ I'd still be in your arms with a big happy grin._

_ The one that got away._

I cringed a little when my TV set blared with cheers from some apparent fans in the crowd, Jared a little uncomfortable as he looked at the cover. It wasn't something much, but it was the tattoo I had gotten without permission and he got the same one as well that day.

"So, do you think he was talking about you?"

Jared shrugged. "Could be another band member's lyrics."

"True, true. But here's a suggestion… How about you call him right now? You know, apologize for the break up an all that."

The brunet grinned awkwardly. "I don't think I'm up for it. Besides, he could be on tour or he might not be home. Doubt he'll wanna hear my voice again, anyway."

"Just do it, man, before Leon gets to him."

The crowd gasped and I face palmed before sliding further into the comfort of my couch, which was actually softer than it looked. The tight end's face scrunched up in confusion before he straightened his posture and leaned towards the host a little.

"Leon?"

"Yes, there's this really big rumor that Leon Cross and Andre Ryder were caught kissing backstage after one of their shows."  
The brunet scowled. "Guess it wouldn't hurt to check up on him then."

"That's the spirit!"

He pulled out his cell phone and started dialing numbers and I prayed, once again, that he had forgotten my number after all these years. Unfortunately, my prayers were once again laughed at and my phone started to buzz angrily in my back pocket, begging to be picked up. I was frozen with distraught because on one hand, I could finally hear an apology that I deserved after six ears of misery from him. On the other hand, I really didn't know what I would say to him, mostly since we had grown very distant from each other. No one called an old friend after years with no reason just to say hello, so I was sure I'd let my emotions take control. Uncertainly, I pressed my phone to my ear and answered the call with anxiety lacing my heart and mind as they worked furiously against me.

"Hello?" Jared said from my phone and TV.

"Who is it?" I lied almost too easily, feeling breathless already.

"Ummm… It's Jared… Jared Typhin. You remember, right?"

My heart paused. "Oh… You…"

"Look, I'm calling because… Because I shouldn't have done that to you senior year. You didn't deserve that one bit and I'm so sorry that I didn't face the problem then."

Anger took over. "Yeah, you're calling now? Oh, I've just been _dying_ for the day you'd call me again and we could frolic in the fields again!"

"Don't get pissy with me! You can either accept this apology or go on with your damn life with Leon or whatever the fuck his name is and ignore me."

"Don't get pissy with you? Fuck you Typhin! I spent years trying to forget you because you hurt me that bad. No, 'I'm sorry, this isn't working out. It was fun while it lasted,' or even a single fucking _text_ breaking up from you and I'm supposed to forgive you? I would've felt better had you even done that, but no, you just stop talking to me and treating me like a ghost. So take your high and might assholish attitude elsewhere."

"You think I wanted to end it with you like that? It was hard enough not trying to talk to you, so put yourself in my shoes! I was saving your ass and thinking about you, but you didn't even care back then! Now look what you have! A boyfriend and a great job, so fuck you!"

"You sure as hell didn't care enough about me to break up with me, leaving me to wonder what I had done wrong! And next time you _ever_ accuse me of a rumor, I suggest you jump off a cliff! I'm pretty fucking sure Gary Wilkin was trying to get in Leon's pants, and I saw him too. So you tell that mother fucking prick to shut his straight-acting queer mouth of his!" I barked before hanging up.

He growled. "Happy mother fucking anniversary to you too, Andre!"

He threw his cell phone directly at the screen before storming off stage and muttering a long string of profanities and a few punches. I turned off the television before it cut to commercials and I faced the back of my couch before crying myself to sleep.

I woke up several hours later to the sound of banging on my door, and for a second, I thought Leon showed up drunk again. It was either that, or my sister had planned another surprise visit that involved dogs and cake, neither of which interested me at the moment. The house was dark and there was barely any sun visible as I shuffled through my small, one bedroom house. The banging resumed when I was touching the doorknob, causing me to groan angrily as I threw it open to yell at Leon or Rosalie. However, before I could get out one word, I felt rough lips attacking mine and demanding hands on my waist as I was guided through my house. When my back hit a wall, I cried out and opened my eyes to meet a furious looking brunet who continued to kiss me savagely despite my protests.

It took me a while to come to my senses and realize that I was kissing a stranger who had demanded entrance into my house. The house was still dark as hell, but the living room had light on, though it was the room farthest from where I was.

Luckily, I remembered that taste after a while.

"Get off me Jared!" I demanded, pushing his face away.

He literally growled before biting down on my exposed shoulder roughly and hoisting my up by my hips so that I was higher up on the wall. I grew fearful and began to push him away, but whenever I did, he would end up biting some part of my body. My shirt was long since forgotten since I had gotten home, so he had free access to almost all of my skin, minus my lower half. He continued to litter my body with rough, demanding kisses that seared my skin each time his lips parted. Something about the aggression and anger mixed together had me horny and leading to my eventual submission to his body. When I finally started to moan happily instead of pushing him away, his actions became more aggressive and had me crying out.

When he asked where the bedroom was, my reply was instantaneous, and I was soon being carried over a shoulder and through the darkness of my house. Somehow, the front door was closed, so that was one less thing to fear as he threw me onto my bed.

"Are you still a virgin?" He grumbled into my ear as his hands worked on massaging my chest.

"Y-yes, why?"

"Because I'm taking that title. Hate me, make me out to be the bad guy, I don't care. I want it and I'm pretty fucking sure it had my name written all over it."

"What about you?"

He paused his motions. "No… I should've waited for this day. I didn't know this would happen."

The revelation that he was no longer pure hurt me more than when he decided to jam a finger into my buttocks with force. I gripped at his back and cried for him to stop it, but he wedged his thick finger in deeper while kissing me up again.

"And I'm a tight end," he muttered with a chuckle.

"W-what?" I asked around a breath.

"Nothing. But after this, no one can be your first. I was your first everything so far… Kiss, boyfriend, dance partner… Now sex partner. Doesn't that sound so good?"  
I panicked. "N-no, Jared, I want to save it for someone special. Please don't do this."

"I am a special person…"

He pushed in another finger, causing me to end up in tears as I felt my entrance stretch to fit around his two, slick fingers. He held me down with his free hands and shushed me as he kissed me sweetly, his fingers moving around inside of me more and more.

"Jared," I moaned instead of yelling like I wanted to, "please?"

He frowned before removing his fingers. "I'm sorry, Andre. I can't see you walking around freely anymore… I was… I was there for your concert in Atlanta last time. I wanted to make up then but… I couldn't. It hurts to see you walking around like you don't care if I'm gone. Maybe I'm better off dead…"'

"Don't say that… No one deserves to die, especially not you. You're famous and… You can't throw that up."

"I'm not saying I would want to, but it seriously is tempting. I don't want to be a single pro-athlete. Andre, I want you by my side again. What I did was stupid and selfish… But I've learned."

I gulped. "I don't know Jared… I'm always so busy and then you're busy for most of the year too…"

"We'll find a way to make it work, though right?"

"I could quit my job…" I muttered.

He glared. "Here we go a-fucking-gain. You're not giving up your dream to be with me, a person who doesn't even deserve a second chance."

"I'm not giving up my dream… I think… I think my dream has always been to find someone that I can be myself with and at the end of the day, cuddle up with them and fall asleep in their arms."

"All those years ago, and that's all you wanted? Andre… You have some really low dreams."

I punched his arm. "Douche…"

"You really do though, but I think I want that too. It'd be too much of me to ask you to quit your job though…"

"Just try."

He looked around for a while. "Andre… You wouldn't really want to quit your job for me, would you?"

"Hmm, let me think about that. Hot football star and travelling to other places? I wouldn't mind that. I could find odd jobs around the town and what not…"

"How about we both quit?" He asked. "I don't really like football at all. Don't know why I did it after college…"

"You're gonna quit?"

"Yeah, fuck it. Why not? I'll only quit if you take me back."

I searched the barely illuminated bright brown eyes and felt my heart seize up as one of his hands touched my bare skin. If I answered him now, I could potentially be setting up my life for more misery in the career department, but have a love life again.

"Sure… I'll try to be with you again…"

He grinned wickedly, knowing how much I loved that smile, before he leaned forward and captured my lips in a sweet kiss. His hands massaged my body as he kissed down my body with butterfly like kisses until he got dangerously close to my package. I groaned against his harsh hands and equally rough tongue and tried to pull his head northern, but he was having none of that. He wrapped those pink, succulent lips around hardened shaft and sucked on it softly as it was a lollipop or something equally sweet. I wasn't that versed in the art of blowjobs, but I was definitely feeling heady as I felt the suction drawing me into a state of pleasure. My silent protests had stopped and I was grasping at the headboard and squirming under that skilled tongue as it swirled around the head of my hard on.

Everything inside of me felt explosive as he continued to make his merry way down my member with a greedy mouth and eager tongue. Time seemed to cease its existence in that moment as he continued to go up and down rhythmically with his head, causing massive sparks of pleasure to erupt. It wasn't just the ordinary pleasure either, but a full blown scale that I had never experienced when I had to squeeze one out. His eyes were closed in concentration as he dragged me closer and closer to the finish line, my body slowly losing all of its skeletal structure as I melted into the mattress. Right before I could unload, he came off of the member with a loud popping noise before sticking two fingers up my bum again, but it wasn't that painful this time. I guess the minor preparing he had done earlier helped somewhat, but I wasn't sure if I was ready for the real thing just yet. The brunet was obviously in agreement when he took his digits out and rooted around the bed for something.

I heard a cap opening before the wet noise of something filled the air, followed by smearing of said wetness, meaning he had just grabbed more lube. He exhaled softly before entering the two fingers in again, but adding a third almost right after that. I wasn't going to lie and say that it felt like daisies and cupcakes were being shoved up there; it hurt like hell and I wanted it to stop immediately. No matter how many times cuss words flew out of my pie hole or how much I tried to squirm away, the athlete seemed dead set on not letting me move a muscle. His calm words and feather kisses weren't enough to cause me to adjust to the pain too well as he pushed his fingers in deeper. The tip index finger brushed against something inside of me, and instead of grousing in pain, white hot pleasure made me rise up off the bed a few inches for a while.

"Finally," he muttered before twisting his fingers around and hitting it again.

"Jared… Oh God, Jared, please."

"Soon, baby, soon."

"I want you so badly, though. I want you in me. I want to feel that hot, juicy cock filling me up and pressing on my prostate." My words were coming out almost as moans as I moved on his fingers, imagining it was his member.

I must've said something right because the man was pulling a condom on in no time at all and lining his head up with the entrance. Once he rested the spongy tip against it, he looked up at me with dark eyes and a look of questioning.

"Ready for this? It's gonna hurt more than my fingers, I can tell you that."

"You have some pretty thick fingers, so… I think you prepared me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

He slowly started to push in and forced my extremely tight entrance, burning me continuously as he proceed to bottom out. I was complaining the whole time and he'd have to take intermittent pauses to make sure I could handle the pain. The man wasn't lying when he said that he was _definitely_ bigger than those three sausage fingers of his. It was agonizing and slowly, but he soon found a way to fully sheathe himself into me, his pulsating member feeling all too good inside of me now that it was there. After we both stopped to catch our breath, he started to rock our bodies at a slow rhythm that matched the speed of my heart right now. It was all too much for me to handle at once and I felt like exploding, but I knew I was nowhere near cumming just yet. After I let out a certain noise that sounded between a cross of irritation and need, he started to move faster and get a little rougher.

We developed a pattern that basically followed the principles of when I wanted him to be harder with me without having to say a word. Of course I was moaning his name and several other colorful things, but I never asked him to get rougher or move quicker. Instead, I'd make that strange noise I never knew I could make, and he was gripping my hips tighter as he pounded into me with his thick member that felt amazing. Whenever he'd hit my prostate, I'd cry out and struggle to hold onto his back, but I always had to have a hold on something. Things were only so much better because hearing that bass rich voice of his getting deeper than normal whenever he moaned made me want to cream. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I was pretty sure it was love, or something like it. We hadn't really discussed where we stood other than taking each other back, but that could've meant as friends and not boyfriends.

When I hadn't indirectly asked for him to change up the speed or pressure, he took it upon himself to do so while I was busy focusing on the pleasure and my mixed thoughts. He was beginning to slap against me so hard that I was pretty sure I'd have bruising, but I didn't care at that moment. Instead, I focused on the orgasm I was about to have, but didn't really want to release because that meant it would end soon. No longer able to fight off the buildup much longer, I let out a light moan and came onto my stomach before feeling like jelly and letting go of Jared. He looked delighted and was soon pausing before releasing his seed into the condom. The shockwave of his cum made me jump because it was pretty powerful, and that was slightly scary. When he pulled out, he offered and hand to me and asked if we should take a shower, since we were both pretty dirty.

I only said yes because I was extremely tired and wanted to go to bed clean instead of having cum dry on me for the morning. What I didn't expect was the sex we would have in the shower when Jared took me from behind completely out of the blue.

3 Years Later

"I'm not in the mood, Typhin!" I yelled from the bedroom.

"But come on! It's your 30th birthday, babe!"

"I'm so fucking old!" I groaned.

He sighed before making his way into the room and fixing me with a glare that promised something bad would happen soon if I didn't move. This was a normal occurrence at my house, so I chose to lay half under the covers with one eye peeking out from under the pillow on my head.

"Your sister really wants to take you out for dinner."

"Then you go."

"It's _your_ birthday, though. I need _you _there for _your_ birthday."

"My birthday can go to Hell!"

He frowned. "I didn't know I married a chick."

I stared at my wedding band. "I'd like to think you married a man who _does not_ enjoy remembering that he has seen thirty years."

"And I've seen more. Now get out of bed and get dressed. We're going."

"But—"

He glowered. "Now."

I sat up and fixed my static treated hair before tossing the fallen pillow at him on my way towards the closet to find something appropriate. He just watched me with his arms folded over his chest and a somewhat smug grin as he watched me limp into the closet.

"By the way, Rasile's gonna be there," he added before disappearing.

"Tell me you're kidding? Jared? Jared, please don't tell me he's coming. Jared!"

There was only the sound of our dog roaming around the house and the softened volume of a TV coming from the living room. I wasn't sure why I dealt with him most days, or why we even got married, but that constant fight and spark between us hadn't changed and I was glad it didn't. Two weeks into our newly rekindled relationship, he had invited me to his place, which let me tell you, is big as fuck. When I got there, he was waiting with a nervous grin and a bag in his hand before he led me towards the backyard. We spent a majority of the time just hugging and talking, a few fight here and there, but nothing too heavy. Then—I should've known it was coming—he started to make quick work of our clothes. During the middle of our romping session, he blurted out the words, "Marry me, Andre," and had me frozen for the rest of the night. Something about marrying him felt so wrong yet deep down in the pits of my "heart," I knew that I still loved him even after what he had done.

The wedding wasn't all that easy honestly. We were still working even though we agreed to stop when we got together because we did need the money. Jared had been busy for practice most of the time because and I got called in for jam sessions with the band and more gigs, but nothing major. Finally, a week before valentine's day, we had ek before valentine'verything planned and ready to take place whenever we gave the green light. There were a few complications before we could give the signal, like a rainstorm that stretched on for days on end. After that, there seemed to be major issues with our electricity and plumbing, which Jared had to fix in both houses. When we believed nothing could get any worse, I received a call from my manager who groveled for hours that I stop this heinous wedding at once.

He wasn't the only one who wanted it to stop. When the media first noticed the ring on my finger during a concert, they were in an uproar, demanding to know who the mystery man or woman was. My lips were welded shut, but my fiancée wasn't as tight-lipped about it as I was. He booked us an interview on Ellen where we both had to confess that we were indeed getting married and how in love with him I was. The brunet knew I was pissed for the broadcasted truth, but he stopped me short of beating him when we got home, directing my energy to something else. This was how it worked with us now, however, between our time at work and our little time together, we now had to "please" the paparazzi, or so Typhin claimed. My band mates had often had to act as my personal bodyguard because everyone wanted to know when and how it had happened.

On the topic of my colleagues, I was surprised none of them were pissed or scared that I was marrying a _man_ and not a woman. Dan was very stoic to begin with, but he began to give me small teasing smiles whenever I saw him or vice versa. It was as if he had known my secret this whole time and finally got a kick out of his correct assumption after God knows how long. Leon was startled at first, but he never resented it and often asked that I bring the football player to practice one day, which I would later regret. During Jared's break from work, he had nothing more to do than mope around my house or invite me to his and try to get lucky. Sometimes it worked, most of the times it didn't. My point was, he was being a lazy ass and had nothing productive to do for months, so I decided to fulfill Leon's wish.

Once Jared laid an eye on the guitarist, he became very stiff and started to morph into someone I had never seen before. He was watching me with hawk eyes the entire time and unsettled me as I sang and tried to play on my bass. Whenever we took a quick break, he would make sure the other brunet was watching before pulling me into a very heated kiss. By the end of my "shift," my hair was a mess and my nerves were shot, so they had to stop production early for the day, something the athlete seemed content with. Right before I left, I made my way over to Leon and Dan who were standing by the amps and conversing softly. I wasn't even allowed to say my bidding before a hand seized the back of my shirt and dragged me through the halls of the building.

Later that night after a round of fuming, pouting, and questioning, Jared sat down in front of me cross-legged and regarded me with a careful look. It took a while, but he finally admitted he didn't like Leon on bit and was actually jealous that we worked together. This was confusing at first, but then he said that the man was hot, and at first, I thought I meant he found the guitarist more attractive than me. I was ready to fight when he realized his mistake, his mouth already speeding through his reasons of why it wasn't a good thing. He swore up and down that working around him would lead to my eventual cheating on my part. That's when it all fell into place and I started to laugh outright at the strong brunet with no remorse to the sadness in his eyes.

I confessed that Leon and I had a small thing when we first started out, but we both made a mutual agreement that it wasn't working out. Between society and our job, if things were to go wonky, things wouldn't be okay if we continued this way and something bad came of the relationship. After that little band incident, Jared visited more often, but he wasn't as jealous or fearful of me committing adultery. The man was more upbeat about things and even held conversations with everyone, especially Leon. Time flew by quickly and soon March came around, the month we finally decided to finally host our union. My sister, who was a main influence and helper of the planning told me over the phone that I had finally grown a pair to actually go ahead with it. I was never clear on what she meant by that, but what she said was further from the truth than I thought.

The day of the wedding was insane and overwhelming and in a last split second decision, while I was staring down the out of my changing room window, I grew fearful. Whatever possessed me in those thirty minutes to turn off my cell phone and drive all the way to a beach was beyond me. I really did want to marry the brunet, but I was scared of the commitment, so I guess that's what drove me to run away. As I sat on the sand alone in the setting sun, I remembered this place being where Jared and I had first met during summer vacation after 8th grade. I had been so enamored by him since that day, yet I could never pinpoint what it was exactly that kept us together all the time. We fought a _lot_, and I'm talking more than a normal couple would, but things never got too bad or physical, not counting some pretty rough sex.

Two sets of tires crunching up gravel alerted me that someone was there, and I was fearful the police knew I was here. I stood up and stared at the headlights of the car before they shut off and a tall, pulchritudinous brunet stepped out with a sullen look. He was still his tuxedo just as I was, and his hair was just as messy as usual, the way I liked it. Slowly, he made his way over to me, his face growing clearer as he closed the distance between us in nearly five strides. He didn't look upset or angry, but he looked accepting of what I had done, probably already making up excuses for me in his head. There was a few feet between us, but neither of us moved to close the gap, especially not the brunet who just looked everywhere else but at my face.

"We met here," he muttered after a while.

"It was the first place I could think of…"

"Look… Umm… About the wedding… I understand if you don't want to get married to me anymore. 'M not exactly the nicest person to be around. So, I just kinda came here to tell you that… I'm not mad or anything. I kinda knew from the beginning that it was too good to be true."

"Jared," I said softly.

His eyes were facing the sky and his jaw was set tightly, his body unmoving as I watched him for a few minutes. That's when I came to the conclusion that he was indeed trying his hardest to keep from crying in front of me.

"No, no, you don't have to say anything. I'll just be going then…"

"Wait," I called out, grasping at his arm, "can I at least speak?"

"What is there to say?"

"A lot, considering I want to fucking marry you."

"Then why'd you run?" He barked in my face.

"Because I was nervous, okay? Yes, I love you so damn much, but… I just… I'm not sure what happened. I saw that aisle and all I could see in my head was the end of my life."

"What, so being married to me is that bad, huh?"

"N-no, it's not that, Jared. I feel like… We're both so young and we're getting married. I feel like I haven't properly enjoyed everything."

He scowled. "And you can't do that with me?"

"I dunno Jare… I don't…"

He hugged me close enough to suffocate me. "If that's all then… You could've said something. I would've understood and helped you through this."

"You will? I mean, there's a whole list of things I haven't done yet."

"Don't care… I have a lot of time on my hands."

After that freak out and great scare to our parents and media, we got married the next day, but made sure that the media was there. It was agreed upon that they inspired the fear of marriage, and that was actually very true if I thought more about it. We quit our jobs almost directly after, shocking the world, but we didn't take a single word of negativity from our ex-bosses. Jared became a bartender not that far from his house and I started to work on starting my art business over the internet. The money flow was tight in the beginning, so I found my not so frequent trips to visit Jared at work becoming increasingly more urgent. I'd drink myself until I could barely remember how to walk and Jared would normally have to drive me home and take care of me in the morning. I know he saw that crazed look in my eye that showed how scared I was that I couldn't help with bills, but he never mentioned it. Behind my back, he began spreading the word that I was selling handmade clay sculptures and oil paintings, and his word got far.

When I first noticed my blooming success with the site in terms of visits and orders, I was shocked how I had taken off so suddenly. I only found out that Jared was helping my job by talking to everyone about the website when I went in through the back to surprise him. My mood hit a new low for weeks and Jared couldn't understand why I was so silent towards him and no longer in the mood to romp. Of course, in true Jared Typhin fashion, he claimed I was menstruating and I "really need to check that out" apparently. I flipped that day and I understood why I could never really have nice things, like fancy dishes or glass cups. After I shattered most of the kitchen, Jared apologized for what seemed like days until I finally forgave him, minus the romping he wanted. I now understood he just wanted me to feel confident in my work and normally I wouldn't reach fame overnight. That much I knew, but I just had that fear that I'd have to sell my house and move.

Yeah, we were married for nine months and we still lived in different houses, but it was because I was so used to my house and didn't want to give it up. On his 28th birthday, which was just us two under a tree in a deserted park with a basket of food, he asked me to move in with him. I wasn't that fearful then of moving, but I really wanted to keep my house for some reason. It took a lot of guts to say yes to his question, and in three days, I had fully migrated into the Typhin residence. I still passed my house on my way to town though, and I always saw those vacant windows just staring at me blankly, like it didn't recognize me. I was incredibly tempted to become one of those flippers, only to keep the house after I renovated it instead of selling it to some douche who might fuck it up with booze and girls. Jared quickly shut down that operation when I asked him about it during dinner one night, his face a little torn.

Supposedly, his best friend, Courtney, was dying of some rare form of cancer and he had just learned the news three nights prior. He was never seen without a scowl and glazed over eyes those days, and I began to fear for his life severely. As time progressed, he became more agitated with any minor mishap and would often come home to snap at me for something. I was the subject of his aggression when he came and would often be hit, but I didn't run away that easily. If I was going to be in an abusive relationship, then that road could clearly be reversed on him and he'd be hit with his own medicine. On his day off of work, I claimed that I wanted to file for divorce and my sister was waiting outside to take me to her place for now. His face broke into one of true fear before he stood up and stormed over to me with tight fists.

"You can't leave me!"

"Watch me."

I didn't actually go to my sister's house and I was definitely not applying for divorce, but I did leave the house and I went somewhere relaxing. Normally, I wasn't a type to see a masseur, who was getting a little too flirtatious with me as he got lower down my back. My temper was being tried, but when I flashed my wedding ring "accidentally," he seemed to behave a little better from then on. After that, I treated myself to the best lobster from a restaurant I had found on my journey to nowhere in particular. It was simply too amazing for words and I found myself treated with the honors of congratulating the cook, who just so happened to be a big fan of mine. He was constantly asking me what was new with our band, but I made up a completely lame excuse about recording issues and time fluxation. It had been such a long time since I had been with my band mates, but the public still didn't know that Valkeer was disbanded with a smooth talk.

The day I went in to resign, I was greeted by Dan and Leon both sitting across from each other a somewhat apprehensive look on their face. My mind instantly assumed the worst, but when my manager, Todd, stepped out and started to argue with us, I realized we all wanted the same thing. We wanted out. Leon claimed he found someone that took up most of his time and he couldn't risk losing her because of his job. Dan stood by his own reasoning pretty much along the same lines as Leon, which made me begin to wonder. Todd was furious when he turned to me and demanded why I would want to leave as well before I flashed my ring. He growled and disappeared for a few seconds, reappearing with a stack of papers that he proceeded to shred in front of us. It was the most liberating thing in the world, so we went out and had a private celebration to the end of the beginning.

I went back home to my husband, who was waiting with the phone in his hand and a look of pure distress and he tousled his hair. When he heard the door lock, he whipped round and threw the phone at the floor, which shattered, before engulfing me in a bone-crushing hug. I had never heard so many apologies and confessions leave his lips before he found way to whisk me into the bedroom to "make up." From then on, everything went somewhat smoothly up until this point in time, my 30th birthday. I had been dreading it ever since Jared hit that age seven months and one day ago. He had been trying to get me to move around the house and do things like cook for him or clean up after him or take a shower with him. It basically revolved around him, like usual, and though I found the attitude admirable, I simply couldn't put up with it. I was allowed to be a mellow dramatic bitch if I wanted to be, that was fine. But I was glad I still had Jared in my life and that things were definitely changing for the better as time progressed.

"Andre, where's the lube?"

"Try your back pocket."

"Found it! It was under the sofa," he said with a chuckle.

"Do I wanna know why?"

He sighed as he entered the room. "Because that one time in the kitchen, I threw it in the living room, but forgot about it. Now I'm prepared for a fun night."

"Is Rasile really going to be there?"

He grinned. "Yup."

Eh, okay, so not exactly for the best.

* * *

**A/N**: So, I wrote this story because it's very close to my life, but will never happen. The relationship is true in the beginning, but no afterwards. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. These are my own characters for a story series I'm writing. Let me know if you liked it and I might post more of these other than Akuroku. Bye!


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